Parallel Time Bombs
by DarkPrincess128
Summary: Klavier's obsession is making him self-destruct, and the only person who can help - the object of desire - is unwilling. One-sided KlavxKris.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Apollo Justice or any of its characters.**

**A/N: Wow. I haven't written for this fandom in forever. Moreover, I've never written for AJ. I also haven't played in a while, so I'm hoping these characters aren't massively OOC. Obviously, rated T for themes and behavior. **

Klavier woke up on a Wednesday morning feeling normal – his corrupt, taboo sense of being that he considered normal. He woke up from sensual dreams featuring forbidden people that had become normal, and he went about the morning normally.

He first went to the shower, and after turning it on stared in a mirror in the shared bathroom. He wiped away the steam beginning to condensate on the mirror. The blurriness left on the surface skewed the image just enough to make it look like his reflection was someone else…

And after his shower was done and he became dressed for the day, he went down to the kitchen where the object of his thoughts became a being standing in front of him. Or sitting, rather – he was draped over their kitchen table with papers strewed so that the wood of the table wasn't even visible. He looked as though he hadn't gone to bed yet, and hadn't for days, which Klavier knew was untrue. His glasses were crooked on his pale, concentrated face, and Klavier was staring.

"Kristoph," Klavier had a soft, melancholy laughter in his voice as he spoke the name that had been dancing in his thoughts all morning. "_Mein bruder, _go to bed."

"It's seven in the morning, Klav. It's too late for sleep now."

"When do you go in today?" It was a sad question, and one that Klavier asked daily. Kristoph never came home when he said he would, so he stopped asking that.

Pause. "Nine-thirty." Kris wasn't even glancing at his brother anymore. Just studying text that passed before his sleepy eyes and that didn't quite register. Kristoph knew, as well, that if he were to look up at any moment, Klavier would so intently be staring at him. He was never good at hiding his emotions – a weakness of his that had cost him a lot.

The obsession had been going on for months. They had both lost track. Kristoph didn't catch on at first, but he was more perceptive than the average human being, and it didn't take long to figure it out. It wasn't so much that he was abhorred or disgusted by Klavier's feelings – Kristoph, being logical about emotions, figured it originally started as brotherly love but somehow became diluted. It wasn't affecting Kristoph's life in any way, so he decided to let his brother live in his fantasy world.

But as the months went on, Klavier seemed to go farther and farther off the deep end. It started off with him simply showing up to work late, or going out to clubs more. It progressed into coming home in the wee hours of the morning, when Kristoph was still up organizing case details. Klav would come home completely wasted with bloodshot eyes and burn marks along his fingertips and arms.

Kristoph felt almost like he was being a bad brother, but figured in a different sense that there was nothing he could do. The obsession was taking over his brother, and if the only thing fueling an obsession was the object of desire, then helping Klavier would do much more harm than help. So he remained silent, watching with a shake of the head as Klavier would stumble in on a Tuesday night with white powder on his hands.

The drugs were a whole other business entirely, and Kristoph, as usual, preferred to stay out of that issue. Klavier was buying over-the-counter stuff like candy, and taking them like candy, and Kristoph was growing to the point of not caring whether or not his brother was slowly (or quickly) killing himself. And the medical tape in the bathroom cabinet was becoming shorter and shorter as Klavier was wearing more and more bracelets and longer-sleeved shirts and Kristoph was beginning to think that the only way to solve this madness was to move out of their shared apartment. But if moving out would be the final second in the time bomb that was his brother, he would rather stay in.

Eventually, thinking about what to do became too much and Kris resolved to ignore his brother entirely, addressing him when necessary or when he was spoken to. This way, his brother could still look at him, and Kristoph wouldn't have to be involved in the mess that was turning out to be his life.

Part of Klavier knew his brother knew. He had been becoming more and more distant – the both of them, actually – and he was sure he wasn't hiding his feelings too well. That coupled with his brother's intelligence and skill to perceive things made it obvious that he couldn't not know Klavier's feelings.

And perhaps these drinking binges were helping him figure it out as well. They were satisfactory enough to Klavier. And the more Kris ignored him, the more tempting it all was. The drugs provided an escape. The drinks, the clubs – they all provided escapes from the feelings he was ashamed to harbor. His brother – his one obsession – would no longer speak to him. He was a mess and a stranger in his own body, which was quickly deteriorating.

Klavier would've given anything – _anything _ – to see a genuine, warm smile from his brother again. They had both gotten cold and distant. The relationship was fake – full of fake words and repetitive questions and robotic answers.

And the more Klavier sat there, staring at his brother who was completely aware he was being stared at, the more he hated himself, and the more miserable he got. And he knew that it was going to lead to a long, destructive night.

Klavier got up slowly from the table, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He wasn't hung over for once. Kristoph didn't budge.

"Kris?"

"Mm," He acknowledged dimly.

He turned his back to his brother. "I love you," Klavier tried. It was another conversation that seemed to dance to no music – you didn't quite know where to go but it usually followed the same path, and you never knew when to end.

"I know, _bruder_."

The word at the end of the sentence, kind of latched on as if an afterthought, made the small exchange of words so much bitterer. Klavier could pretend it was a simple "love you", but the both of them knew that's not really what it meant. It was a set of three words that Klavier could use as a disguise – saying what he means while pretending he isn't saying what he wants to say. Kristoph usually accepted this, and the set of responses he would use came from a small repertoire. Usually something as cold as their relationship, "likewise" or "you too." Sometimes there was no response. And every once in a while he would return with "love you too." And Klavier had heard "I know" come back before. But the word _bruder_ had never been in the sentence, and Klavier suddenly felt cold in his skin.

He left the kitchen in what would seem an abrupt and brisk exit, but seemed perfectly normal for the situation. He went to the bathroom, closing and locking the door. The mirror was still slightly steamed from his shower from not even 10 minutes ago, and Klavier started violently ripping through drawers to find the blade. Once found, he put it down somewhere he could actually see it while he took his bracelets off. He unpeeled yesterday's medical tape, which was bloody and threw it in the trash. Klavier proceeded to take the blade in his right hand, and carefully pierced the skin on his left wrist…

And ripped. Fast.

Ecstasy filled him for a split-second – the best part of this routine – before he looked at the damage. No wonder the feeling had been stronger than usual – it was the deepest cut he had made yet. The ones going sideways and up-and-down his forearms were all scabbed over – some had lost their scabs by now.

Klavier looked at the clock and realized he had very little time before he actually had to go to work. He quickly cleaned up the cut, put fresh tape on it, and put the bracelets back on. Making sure he looked good in the mirror, he stepped outside the bathroom and proceeded to leave.

Kristoph watched it all.

**A/N: Am I a freak? Probably. But I like this story. Review, no flames, I love you! Thanks for reading.**


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